


build me a home (in the dark of our hearts)

by hinoka, Nyxzia



Series: Kintsugi [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Character Development, Child AU, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Minor Injuries, Oikawa Tooru Being an Asshole, Oikawa Tooru's mom - Freeform, Oikawa's way too invested in volleyball, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Rating is subject to change, Symbolism everywhere, alternative universe, ball is life, because if we add it now it would be a spoiler, because no parents are canon sadly, because this is a hq fic what else do you expect, child!Kageyama Tobio, don't worry there's, lemonade, like lemonade the drink, lots of lemonade, more information in fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:12:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8115859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinoka/pseuds/hinoka, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxzia/pseuds/Nyxzia
Summary: The peace and quiet on their street is a facade.  Iwaizumi and Oikawa know that.  Oikawa can feel it in the way his bones ache when he falls into bed and see it in the light that he never wants to go out in his bedroom. Iwaizumi can hear it every time glass smashes in the middle of the night when he is supposed to be asleep, every time a motorcycle roars to life. 
What neither of them know is how quickly that facade will break. They never expect it to be in the form of a five-year-old boy named Kageyama Tobio. They certainly don’t expect it to throw their entire world upside down, forcing them to grow up and learn to take the reins of life. And in all of the mess, they definitely do not expect to find a place to belong.





	1. Minor

**Author's Note:**

> General warnings that were not included in tags: This fic is going to escalate pretty quickly, and depending on when you’re reading this, all the tags that apply to the fic won’t be added for fear of spoilers. Please, PLEASE look at the newly added tags for each chapter if you’re reading this when it’s still being updated. We will also put warnings for a chapter (if it applies) at the top as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Implied child abuse
> 
> Hello, co-writer Nyxzia here. This took a long time to write and plan, and pinning down the summary was pretty challenging. But nonetheless, it's up, and we hope you'll like it!
> 
> This is co-writer hinoka speaking. Keep in mind that the ages are drastically changed around for this AU to make it work. Otherwise, enjoy!

_Ba-bum.  Ba-bum._

There was something steady, almost soothing, in the way that Oikawa’s worn volleyball smacked into the sidewalk of his home and bounced back into his pale, clammy hand.

_Ba-bum.  Ba-bum._

It’s like a heartbeat, Iwaizumi mused as he bent his knees slightly and prepared for the killer serve that was sure to come at him soon.

_Ba-bum._

The bouncing stopped, and Oikawa caught the ball, feeling its familiar heft, and spun it in his hands exactly twice.  He took a deep breath and touched the ball to his head before giving Iwaizumi a determined look and throwing it up high into the air.

Iwaizumi dug his heels into the concrete as best as he could, determined to send the green and white ball spinning back.

Oikawa jumped, his eyes never once leaving the old volleyball, and slammed it down as hard as he could, pouring into the serve all his rage, all the times that he had tried to perfect this serve and failed miserably, and a manic look appeared in his eye as he landed and watched the ball hurtle towards Iwaizumi.

_Don’t receive it.  Don’t receive it._

It thumped against Iwaizumi’s arms, and he staggered backward slightly against the force but still managed to send the ball flying back towards Oikawa, who cursed and caught the ball.

“That was a good one,” Iwaizumi said, straightening back up and rubbing his stinging forearms.  

“But you still got it,” Oikawa shot back, venom in his voice and utter disappointment shining in his eyes.

“There won’t ever be a serve that isn’t receivable,” Iwaizumi said, quoting their assistant coach.  “It was pretty good!”

“Clearly not good enough,” Oikawa growled, almost to himself.  “One more!”  

“Oikawa-”

“Please!” Oikawa pleaded, clenching the ball tightly, desperation shining in his eyes.

“Alright,” Iwaizumi said hesitantly, getting back into position.  “But this is the last one, got it?”

There was no reply from Oikawa, who was staring at the volleyball like it was his lifeline, the veins and tendons of his hands visible through his skin, and it was at that moment that Iwaizumi felt his resolve falter and his arms loosen slightly.

_Ba-bum.  Ba-bum._

“Oikawa-”

_Ba-bum.  Ba-bum._

“Oikawa.”

_Ba-bum._

“Oikawa!” Iwaizumi called, and when Oikawa looked up, there was a strange look in his eyes, one that Iwaizumi had seen too many times during practice but still couldn’t place.

Oikawa gave no indication that he had even heard Iwaizumi as he caught the ball, spinning it in his hand before taking a deep breath and touching the ball to his forehead, visualizing the serve.  

Iwaizumi tensed back up as Oikawa tossed the ball into the air once more and slammed down it so hard that he almost spiked it, and the ball hurtled towards Iwaizumi before glancing off his wrists, shooting off into the road.

“Yes,” Oikawa hissed, clenching his fist.  Never mind his stinging hand or his aching arms, a victory called for a victory fist-pump.

Iwaizumi shook his head and jogged off the curb into the street to retrieve the ball, which had flown into the driveway of the yellow house across the street.

“Sorry, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa called.

“Don’t mind!” Iwaizumi yelled back, running carefully into the driveway.  As he bent down to pick up the ball, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye and looked up, but all he saw were the curtains in the top window swaying.  He frowned and squinted at the house.

“Iwa-chan?  Is something wrong?” Oikawa yelled.

Iwaizumi shook his head and glanced at the window suspiciously one last time before he grabbed the ball and jogged back.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Iwaizumi said gruffly.  “Just thought I saw something, that’s all.”

There had been a small face peeking out from the curtains; he was sure of it.

“Oh,” Oikawa said, thumping Iwaizumi on the back lightly.  “Wanna go for another?”

“You try to serve one more time today, and you’re going to break your back, and not just because you’re working too hard,” Iwaizumi threatened, and Oikawa drew back, his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sang nonchalantly.  “See you tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, tossing the ball back to Oikawa.  “Actually get some of your homework done tonight, got it?”

“I still don’t understand why they assign us homework during the summer,” Oikawa muttered, scuffing the grass with his sneaker.

“Got it?” Iwaizumi repeated, emphasizing the words heavily.  “And get some sleep too,” he added as an afterthought.

“Geez, Iwa-chan, those two completely contradict each other!” Oikawa protested.

“Got it?” Iwaizumi repeated slowly one last time, sending Oikawa a pointed look.

“Fine,” Oikawa sighed.  “You’re acting like my mom, Iwa-chan!” he added, grinning.

“No volleyball videos tonight, either,” Iwaizumi huffed.

“Now you really sound like my mom.”

“I swear, Oikawa-”

“Alright, alright!” Oikawa surrendered, grinning.  “Night, Iwa-chan!” he called as he walked into onto the porch into his house.

“And no Star Trek either!  Last time you stayed up until two!”

“Okay, mom!” Oikawa yelled, laughing, and Iwaizumi grinned back.  

“See you tomorrow, if you can drag your butt out of bed!” Iwaizumi yelled as he ran back to his yard.

“I’ll be up before you!” Oikawa called from his porch.  “Night, Iwa-chan!”

“Go to sleep, Oikawa!” was Iwaizumi’s response, and the grin on Oikawa’s face lasted until he saw the pile of math homework he had yet to complete on top of his desk.

* * *

_Thump._

Iwaizumi reached up for the volleyball that Oikawa had just sent flying back to him and slammed it back down.

_Thump._

The ball bounced off Oikawa’s inner forearm, very close to his elbow, and shot straight up.

“Sorry!” Oikawa called, stepping back and bumping the ball back to Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi took a step back before jumping and spiking the ball back into Oikawa’s waiting arms.

_Thump._

The ball shot back, and Iwaizumi slammed it back down again, this time with a bit more vigor.  Oikawa winced and the ball flew off his forearms.

_Thump._

Iwaizumi reached for the ball and spiked it down again.  

_Thump._

And again.

_Thump._

One more time.

_Thump._

Again.

_Thump._

And then suddenly he was no longer in Oikawa’s backyard, wearing a Pokemon t-shirt and spiking an old volleyball, he was in Tokyo, his sneakers squeaking and his uniform fluttering as the crowd roared with every spike that he slammed into the ground.

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thump._

“Alright,” Iwaizumi said, panting as he caught the ball, sweat dripping down his cheeks.  “Quick break.”  He grabbed his water bottle and placed the ball onto the grass next to him.

Oikawa reluctantly grabbed his, wiping the sweat from his forehead and staring at the volleyball longingly.

“Oikawa, we’re on a break.  Rest up,” Iwaizumi said, glancing at Oikawa’s face.

“I’m not tired,” Oikawa protested as he set his water bottle back down, inching slowly towards the volleyball.  “You can take a break if you want, I’ll just-”

“No,” Iwaizumi said, stepping in front of the ball.  “You’re taking a break.”

“I’m not tired.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow.

“Right,” he drawled.  “You’re sweating, Oikawa.  Take a break.”

“I’m not tired!”

“Oikawa, I swear that if you do not rest your ass up for at least two minutes I will ask your mom to bring out your homework, and you can do that for the remainder of the day.”

“So mean, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whined, but he halted his advance on the volleyball and began to stretch out his legs slowly.

“One, two, three…” he muttered under his breath, and Iwaizumi dumped half his water bottle onto his hair, shaking his head like a dog as droplets splattered everywhere.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa gasped, scandalized.

“What?” Iwaizumi asked, water dripping onto his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Cooling off?”

“By dumping water onto your hair?” Oikawa exclaimed.

“Not all of us spend thirty minutes every morning gelling and styling our hair. Calm down,” Iwaizumi sighed, splashing Oikawa playfully with what water he had left.  “It’s hot today, anyway.”

“Gah!” Oikawa yelped as a wave of water cascaded upon his carefully styled, perfectly curled, and immaculately gelled hair.  “Iwa-chan!” he yelled, as he felt his hair melt and stick to his face.  He grabbed his water bottle and unleashed his revenge by splashing it all onto Iwaizumi’s t-shirt.

What escalated next was what Oikawa would recount to a mystified audience the most brutal water fight that humankind had ever witnessed, complete with a dramatic sacrifice by Disposable Imaginary Ally #23 and the total slaughter of all Iwaizumi’s troops (Disposable Imaginary Enemy Army #48).

In simple terms, there was a hose.  It quickly escalated from a water fight to a mud fight until both boys were doubled over laughing because Iwaizumi had tripped over the volleyball and landed with a loud _SPLAT_ on his back, sending muddy grass flying everywhere.

“Oh- my- God,” Oikawa wheezed, clutching his stomach.  “Iwa-chan, you look like that mud monster from that cartoon we used to watch when we were kids!”

Iwaizumi responded by chucking the muddy volleyball at Oikawa’s face, which landed point blank on his nose.

“Gah!  Iwa-chan!  I haff muth in mu mouf!”  Oikawa choked, and he retaliated by grabbing a handful of mud and throwing it at Iwaizumi.

“AH!” Iwaizumi yelled, wiping off the mud from his cheeks.  “Oh my God, Oikawa, you are so dead.”

Oikawa’s response was a multitude of retching noises- he was trying to wipe all the mud from his mouth using his elbow.

Iwaizumi paused and stared at Oikawa’s mud-splattered clothes, complete with stray grass in his hair and dirt streaked all over his face.  Oikawa caught his eye and glanced down at his shirt.

“Mom is going to kill me,” Oikawa whispered, lifting up his arms and inspecting his grass-filled sleeve.

“You think?” Iwaizumi responded, shaking out his waterlogged sneakers, which were caked with hardening mud.

“We’re teenagers, Iwa-chan!  We aren’t supposed to have water fights anymore!”

“I noticed that,” Iwaizumi said dryly.

The two stood in solemn silence as they wiped off as much mud as they could off their clothes.  The stillness was suddenly broken when Iwaizumi glanced at Oikawa’s mud-caked face and burst out laughing.

Oikawa stood there, confused, before also descending into hysterics, and the two spent the better part of five minutes trying to get a hold of themselves.

“That-” Oikawa gasped, “Was- the- best!”

“Your face when you got blasted with the hose-” Iwaizumi choked.

“You were cheating!” Oikawa protested, making a face as he recounted being splashed with a blast of water.  “That was so unfair!”

“Since when were there even rules?” Iwaizumi retorted, brushing grass out of his hair.

Oikawa crossed his arms and huffed loudly.

“Well,” he began, fiddling with his fingers.  “Since-”

_VROOM._

The two boys started back in fright as a massive, glossy motorcycle with tacky flame stickers stuck to the sides sped into the street.  They stared as it took such a sharp turn that the hind wheel emitted a massive screech as it raced into the driveway of the yellow house across the road.

“That was definitely way above the speed limit,” Oikawa mumbled to nobody in particular.

“Yup,” Iwaizumi agreed.

The boys continued staring at the motorcycle.  The rider hopped off and yanked his helmet off, catching their gazes and raising an eyebrow.

“What?” he roared at the boys, his words slurred and the sun glinting off the green bottle in his hand.  “Don’t kids like you have any respect these days?”

Iwaizumi and Oikawa hurriedly turned to talk to each other about math, but not before hearing the man curse at them loudly once more.  The man clomped his way towards the yellow house’s door before slamming it, peeling paint and all, behind him.

“Geez,” Oikawa muttered, crossing his arms and frowning.  “Rude, much?”

“Who was that?” Iwaizumi asked, tilting his head and bending down to grab the volleyball.

“No idea.  Never seen him before,” Oikawa said, getting into the receiving position.

“Same,” Iwaizumi said, tossing the volleyball up and slamming it down.

* * *

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thump._

Oikawa cursed and plucked the ball out of the air, gritting his teeth.  Iwaizumi straightened up and frowned.

“Oikawa-” Iwaizumi began, but Oikawa waved him off.

“I’m taking a break,” Oikawa snapped, setting the ball down and storming to his porch, plopping down and grabbing his water bottle, draining it in an instant.

Iwaizumi’s frown deepened and he approached his friend in long strides.

“Oi, dumbass," he scolded.  "If you want to improve, it isn’t a good idea to-”

Oikawa launched his now empty bottle at the yard, where it skittered across the sidewalk and came to a stop in the middle of the street. When he spoke again, his voice was low, as grave as the concrete he was sitting on.

“What, Iwa-chan?” he snarled, and Iwaizumi’s eyebrows shot up.  “It isn’t a good idea to practice? Well, maybe you’re right, considering how little I seem to be improving right now!”

Before Iwaizumi could respond, a slam behind him startled them both.

Oikawa could see the man from before stagger out his door, clearly more inhibited than before. Out of the corner of his eye, he could barely spot another dark haired figure behind the man, slowly inching out the door.

“Iwa-chan-” Oikawa began, his eyes wide.

With an unintelligible roar, the adult pushed the small figure- a child- out of the doorway and onto the dead grass of the yellow house’s lawn. Oikawa winced.  The man was over twice the kid’s size, and he radiated anger that was visible even from across the street.

Iwaizumi reacted first, reaching over to try and pull Oikawa to his feet. “C’mon, Oikawa, we got to get your mom and get the kid help, he’s probably hurt.”

Oikawa put a hand on Iwaizumi's arm. “Wait, that guy just kicked him out, seeing another adult might not be... you know.”

Iwaizumi met his eyes. After a moment, he nodded. “Alright. So should we-”

Oikawa silenced Iwaizumi with a harder tug on his sleeve. “Look.”

The child, now on his feet, was staring directly at them. Oikawa felt his skin prickle ever so slightly; something about his stare was uncanny, not necessarily in a creepy way, but almost like deja-vu.  He felt like the kid was looking into his soul and that none of his secrets were safe.

Oikawa stood up, and as he did, the child began making his way towards them. He felt himself tense, and he gripped his best friend’s arm a bit harder.

The kid stopped momentarily to scoop up Oikawa’s abandoned bottle in the street and continued across Oikawa's lawn until he had made a full stop in front of the two teenagers and held out the water bottle.

“Uh, thank you.” Iwaizumi managed, taking the bottle.  The boy continued to stare at the two, his eyes wide and thoughtful.

For a moment, Oikawa thought the kid would run off. But to his surprise, he saw the child’s expression change.

Oikawa knew that expression. It was the face he saw Iwaizumi make when he was about to score the first point of a match. It was the expression that he himself pulled when he was about to deliver a devastating service ace. It was an expression that stated, full out, ‘I am not giving up. Not here, not now’.

The boy finally spoke, in a voice small yet filled with determination. “Could you please teach me how to play volleyball?”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi stared at him, confused.  The boy’s eyes widened and clamped his hands over his mouth before stooping to a low bow.

“I apologize for being rude!” he half-shouted, springing back up.  “My name is Kageyama Tobio!  Could you please teach me how to play volleyball?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This will be a rather long fic, since we both seem to have a habit for being way too overdramatic and adding things that weren’t even supposed to be in the plot in the first place. You’ll see this a lot later. -Nxyzia
> 
> Yeah, that why it took so long to post- anyway- we've had this idea since May, but it took us this long for the first chapter to get up (the first three chapters have been written, we aren’t that slow). Hopefully, by posting it here, we can finally get our butts to work. I hope you’ll enjoy this AU just as much as we do! -hinoka


	2. Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings from the previous chapter still apply.

The two teenagers blinked and tried to process the strange request.

“What?” Oikawa began, his eyebrows furrowed.  “I’m-”

“Sure!” Iwaizumi interjected, bent down to the boy’s- Kageyama’s- height, an abnormally gentle smile on his face.

“Wait-” Oikawa protested, still unable to comprehend what was going on.  “Iwa-chan, that might not be such a-”

But Iwaizumi had already grabbed the volleyball and shushed Oikawa loudly.

“Geez, Oikawa, there’s nothing wrong in teaching a kid how to play!” he said, glancing sharply at Oikawa before turning his attention to Kageyama. “Can we call you Kageyama, or do you prefer something else?”

Kageyama ducked his head. “I, ah…” he mumbled, looking down at his sneakers.  “Kageyama’s fine, I guess, if you want,” he said quietly.

“Huh,” Oikawa sniffed. 

Iwaizumi turned and glared at Oikawa once more, mouthing the words ‘shut up.’

Oikawa’s jaw dropped, offended.

“Nice to meet you,” Iwaizumi said, holding out a hand.  “I’m Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Kageyama said, shaking Iwaizumi’s hand hesitantly.

Iwaizumi beamed. “Alright, Kageyama,” he said, handing Kageyama the volleyball.  “So how much do you know about volleyball?”

Kageyama perked up as he took the volleyball. “I’ve read about it!” he said excitedly.  “I want to serve as good as… ah… him,” he ended weakly, turning his bright eyes to Oikawa.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, nodding.  “Yeah, he serves really well.  Maybe he can teach you someday.”

“Better remember our names if you’re going to learn with us, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa muttered grumpily as Kageyama pursed his lips together. “Hold on, how old are you anyway? You don’t look like you’re in school yet.

“Five,” Kageyama responded quickly.

Oikawa’s eyebrows rose. “And you can already read things like that?” he asked disbelievingly.

“I’m- my mom taught me when I was three.” Kageyama said meekly, curling into himself.

“Feh,” Oikawa spat dismissively, crossing his arms.  “Kids.”

“Oikawa!” Iwaizumi hissed.

Kageyama blinked twice, blissfully unaware of Oikawa’s hostile attitude.

“So, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said loudly, tapping his foot expectantly.  “Can we actually start playing  volleyball now?  We’ve got really important things to do, you know.”

He shot Kageyama a withering glare and turned back to face Iwaizumi, arms still crossed over his chest.

“Sure,” Iwaizumi said nonchalantly.  “Hey, Kageyama, could I see that?” he asked, motioning to the ball in Kageyama’s hands.  

Kageyama nodded and handed it over, though his eyes never left the faded blue and yellow stripes.

Oikawa nodded approvingly and raised his eyebrows at Kageyama.

“Well,” Oikawa began, motioning to the end of the yard.  “You can-”

“So do you know how to receive?” Iwaizumi interrupted, standing back up.  Kageyama shook his head, bouncing on his toes slightly.

“Wait-” Oikawa protested, frowning.  “Iwa-chan, you aren’t-”

“Alright,” Iwaizumi said to Kageyama, louder this time, as he set the ball down next to him.  “So.  Receiving.  Right.”  He glanced around quickly and gave Oikawa a small shrug before getting into the receiving position.

“So this is the basic receiving position- knees shoulder width apart, legs bent slightly, and forearms up in front of you,” he rattled off as Kageyama attempted to imitate him.

“Like this?” Kageyama asked.

“Mhmm,” Iwaizumi said, nodding. “Here, fix your hands so they don’t lace together, you want to make sure that you’re as solid as possible so you can control where the ball goes.”

Kageyama quickly adjusted per Iwaizumi’s instructions. Iwaizumi grinned and picked up the volleyball next to him.

“Good job. When you adjust for the volleyball, keep your motions loose and don’t be too rigid, or you can’t move,” Iwaizumi said, noticing the tension in Kageyama’s arms.  “I’m going to toss it up towards you, try your best to make sure it hits both arms. Put your momentum in your legs, they’re stronger. Ready?” Iwaizumi spun the ball once. “Alright, here comes.”

Iwaizumi tossed the ball as carefully as he could. Kageyama shuffled slightly too far to the right than necessary, putting the ball a few inches off course, but otherwise did much better than Iwaizumi had expected.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “Not bad.  You didn’t need to move as much as you did there, but it’s better than what my first one was like.”

Kageyama’s face brightened considerably. “Really? What about Oikawa-san’s first try?”

Iwaizumi snorted loudly at the memory. “He definitely didn’t receive with his arms, to say the least.”

“Hey!” Oikawa interrupted, his face reddening. “It went straight up either way, alright?”

Iwaizumi snickered and allowed himself to tease his best friend for one moment. “Well, talent is something you make bloom, isn’t it, Oikawa?” His smirk widened when Oikawa’s eyes narrowed in realization of what he was referencing. “And instinct is something you polish, right?

Oikawa sputtered something that sounded suspiciously like _copyright infringement_ , produced a pout that could rival his infant self, and turned away once more.

“Talent is something that you make bloom, that’s right,” Oikawa muttered darkly, scuffing the grass with the sole of his sneaker as Iwaizumi grinned and Kageyama gazed at the two quizzically.  

“Wait...” Oikawa said, raising his head to squint suspiciously at Iwaizumi, who looked away hurriedly and grabbed the volleyball, then at Kageyama, who brightened up and messily got into receiving position.

“Let’s try again, shall we?” Iwaizumi said, spinning the ball in his hands as Kageyama nodded excitedly.

“Alright, here’s another one, coming in three, two, one...” Iwaizumi tossed the ball up once again, a little harder this time and a bit further to the left.

Kageyama’s face scrunched up in concentration and adjusted in a flash. Too fast. He stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet.

Before either teenager could say a word, Kageyama’s hands shot up and mimicked Iwaizumi’s tossing motion, contacting the ball with his fingertips and instinctively pushing it up before falling on his behind.

The ball flew high into the air, dropping slowly in a perfect arc.  Iwaizumi reached up and caught it, staring wide-eyed at Kageyama, who was wincing and rubbing his tailbone gingerly in the grass.

If this had been a match, that would have been a perfect toss.

Oikawa’s eyebrows had now reached far enough to merge with his hairline, his arms crossed across his chest as he glanced curiously at Kageyama.

“Oww…” Kageyama said, standing up.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi asked, rushing over, Oikawa jogging slowly behind him.

“I’m fine!” Kageyama exclaimed nervously.  “I’m not hurt!”

Iwaizumi sighed with relief.  “Okay,” he said, smiling.  “You don’t need to be so nervous, we can still play if you want to.  I just didn’t want your parents to be worried.”

Kageyama looked away, his expression somber.  “I guess,” he said quietly, glancing at his house.

Oikawa nodded grudgingly in the background, wincing at the memories of his own injuries.

“It hurts when you get injured,” he said flippantly.  “Wouldn’t want a five-year-old to go through that, would we?”

“You wanna try one more time?” Iwaizumi asked, holding up the volleyball, and Kageyama’s eyes filled with sparkles.

“Could we?” Kageyama asked excitedly.  “I- I haven’t exactly done one correctly- could-”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi said, laughing.  “You don’t need to be so nervous.  Come on,” he said loudly, sending a forceful glance at Oikawa.  

Oikawa pouted slightly and glanced away.

“Oikawa!”

“Fine,” Oikawa grumbled, walking over.

“So you’re going to try to receive the ball, okay?” Iwaizumi said to Kageyama, who nodded earnestly.  “When you receive, you try to get it to the setter- Oikawa, in this case- so that they can-”

“Set the ball for the spikers so they can hit it over,” Kageyama finished, nodding.  “Oh- I’m sorry for interrupting!” he apologized frantically.

“Don’t worry,” Iwaizumi said.  “It’s good that you know so much about volleyball.”

Oikawa scoffed and muttered under his breath.

“Ready?” Iwaizumi asked, ignoring Oikawa, and Kageyama nodded, hastily getting into position.  “Three, two, one…”

Iwaizumi tossed the volleyball high up into the air and Kageyama adjusted quickly, taking a few small steps back and swinging his arms upward.  The ball bounced off his forearms and back up into the air.

“It went up!” Kageyama exclaimed, mystified.  His arms dropped back to his sides as Oikawa caught the ball.

“Pretty good,” Iwaizumi said.  

“Don’t swing your arms,” Oikawa said sharply.  “It puts too much momentum on the ball.  Shrug your shoulders up instead,” he explained as he got into the receiving position and demonstrated the proper movement.

“Oh,” Kageyama said, mimicking Oikawa’s movements.  “Like that?”

“Yup,” Oikawa said, nodding.

“Do you want to try again?” Iwaizumi asked Kageyama, flashing a quick, approving smile at Oikawa.

“Would that be okay?” Kageyama asked excitedly.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, handing the ball to Oikawa.  “Let’s try to keep the ball in the air as long as we can, okay?”

Kageyama nodded, staring at the ball intensely as Oikawa tossed the ball into the air.

* * *

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Ka-bump._

Oikawa wrinkled his nose for the tenth time as the ball shot off of Kageyama’s hands and into the street, followed by a hasty apology and a “Don’t mind!” from Iwaizumi as he ran to retrieve the ball.

“Tch,” Oikawa said as quietly as possible, but Kageyama still gave him a nervous glance and looked down at his shoes.

“Sorry,” Kageyama mumbled.  

Oikawa gave him a confused glance and tilted his head.

“Tell me, _Tobio-chan_ ,” he said, smirking slightly when Kageyama bristled and gave him a displeased look.  “Why’re you so polite?  It’s not normal for a five-year-old.”

“M-mom always said to be polite to everyone,” Kageyama said, looking away and fiddling with his fingers.

“Which is a good thing,” Iwaizumi said, jogging over with the volleyball.  “Ready to try again?” he asked, and both Oikawa and Kageyama got into receiving position.  “Okay-”

“Tooru!”

The three froze and turned to find Oikawa’s mom standing on the porch, papers in one hand and the other resting on her hip.

“Yeah?” Oikawa called, Iwaizumi still holding the ball and Kageyama’s eyes darting around the yard nervously.

“What’s this?” Oikawa’s mom asked, waving around the papers.  Oikawa turned pale.

“Math homework…” he said quietly, looking away.

“Math homework?” Iwaizumi exclaimed.  “I thought- Why didn’t- I told you- Wait…” he said, horror dawning in his eyes.  “Did you stay up all night again watching volleyball videos?”

Oikawa gave Iwaizumi a guilty glance and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“You DUMBASS!” Iwaizumi roared, before seeing the startled expression on Kageyama’s face.  “Oh- sorry, Kageyama- I thought I told you to actually get some sleep!” he exclaimed, and Oikawa shrugged.

“I did!”

“How long?” Iwaizumi demanded.

“One, two, hours?” Oikawa shrugged guiltily.

“DUMB-” Iwaizumi began, before glancing one more time at a confused Kageyama and paused.  “Uh- Stupid, stupid Oikawa!” he yelled weakly.  “Did you even get any homework done?”

“Yes!” Oikawa insisted.

“How much?” Iwaizumi asked dryly as Oikawa’s mom looked on, interested.

“Five problems?” Oikawa said weakly.

Iwaizumi sighed and pointed at the porch.  “Go and do your homework,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“What?” Oikawa sputtered.  “Iwa-chan, you can’t seriously-”

“Do your homework and we can practice after you’re done.”

“Iwa-chan-”

“Hajime’s right, Tooru,” Oikawa’s mom said, striding over and handing him the papers and a pencil.  “You can practice later-”

“How am I going to improve if I have to waste my time on this?” Oikawa asked, shaking the papers in his hand.  “Volleyball-”

“You won’t be able to play volleyball if you fail school, Tooru,” his mom said, a small smile on her lips.

Oikawa opened his mouth but caught his mother’s eyes and slumped over to the porch, muttering under his breath.

“Thanks, Hajime,” Oikawa’s mom said, sending him a smile.  Her gaze landed on Kageyama, who started and looked away.  “So, who’s this?” she asked, smiling.

“Ah- Kageyama Tobio!” Kageyama yelped, his eyes wide.  “I live across the street- it’s- it’s nice to meet you!” he half-yelled, bowing.

He paused and straightened wide, eyes still open wide and darting from side to side.

Oikawa’s mom gave him an wide smile.  “Sachiko Oikawa,” she said.  “Nice to meet you too.  Are they teaching you volleyball?

Kageyama nodded hesitantly.  “If you want me to go, that’s fine-”

“No, don’t worry,” Sachiko said.  “I’ll be inside if you guys need anything, alright?”

And she walked back into the house, patting Oikawa’s head once or twice, chuckling to herself.

“Oikawa’s mom is nice,” Iwaizumi said, noticing Kageyama’s mystified expression.  “Strict, but nice.  Like all moms.”

“Yeah…” Kageyama said, still wistfully staring at the doorway.  “I guess.”

Iwaizumi tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You wanna start playing again?” he asked, holding up the volleyball.  Kageyama’s head whipped around and the excited look popped back onto his face instantly.

“Yeah!” Kageyama said, a smile up lighting his face for the first time.

* * *

“How long have you been playing volleyball, Iwaizumi-san?” Kageyama asked as they relaxed on Oikawa’s porch, swinging his legs slightly.

“A really long time,” Iwaizumi said, frowning.  “Hey, Oikawa!” he called.  “How long have we been playing volleyball?”

“No idea,” Oikawa said, glad for a chance to avoid doing math for a while.  “A really long time.”

The three sat in silence for a while.  

“Why do you ask?” Iwaizumi asked Kageyama.

“Ah- I was wondering how long it took for Oikawa-san to be able to serve like that,” he said sheepishly.

“Get the basics down first and then you can learn to jump serve,” Oikawa sniffed.  Kageyama nodded.

“Could you show me your jump serve, then?” Kageyama asked excitedly.  “It’s really cool and really fast- I want to serve like you someday!”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow.

“I have homework,” he said, pointing at the worksheets.  Kageyama’s face fell instantly.

“And yet you still have time to have an entire conversation on volleyball,” Iwaizumi snorted.  “Come on, Oikawa, we all know that homework’s the last thing you want to do-”

“Of course not!” Oikawa protested.  “I mean, I hate-”

“So take a break for a bit and show the kid your jump serve,” Iwaizumi continued, louder this time.

“Iwa-chan, I thought I’d never live hear you say that,” Oikawa said, a watery smile on his face.

A vein popped out of Iwaizumi’s head and began twitching uncontrollably.

“Okay, okay!” Oikawa yelped, a massive smile on his face as he grabbed the volleyball and leapt to his feet, scattering papers and pencils all over the porch.  “But I mean, it would be a shame to-"

“Oikawa, I swear that if you keep up this charade I will stab you with this pencil,” Iwaizumi said, holding up a bright yellow pencil.

Kageyama blinked twice and stared at it.

“Iwaizumi-san, I don’t think you can really stab anyone with it,” he said bluntly,  “It’s all dulled.”

Oikawa beamed.

“See?” he said sweetly, pointing at Kageyama.  “He understands the value of homework and dedication.”

“How much dedication does it take to be able to serve?” Kageyama asked excitedly.

“Lots,” Oikawa said.

“Oh,” Kageyama nodded, frowning to himself.  “Do I have enough?” he asked.

“Well,” Oikawa began, pressing his lips together.  “I think-”

“Just serve already!” Iwaizumi interrupted, chucking an eraser at Oikawa.  “Then you can go back to your homework!”

“Fine,” Oikawa whined, dragging his feet along in mock-reluctance.  “But are you sure?” he asked once he was in the middle of the yard, Kageyama and Iwaizumi tagging along.

“Yeah!” Kageyama said excitedly, almost vibrating with apprehension.

“Mmm, I don’t know,” Oikawa said, tilting his head to the side and rubbing his chin.  “It is rather-”

“Stop stalling and serve already!” Iwaizumi exclaimed, rubbing his temples.  “I swear-”

“Please!” Kageyama interrupted, innocent sincerity shining in his eyes.  

“Well, alright,” Oikawa said reluctantly, spinning the ball in his hands.  “But are you-”

“I swear to the great volleyball above,” Iwaizumi hissed, teeth clenched.  “If you don’t serve the ball up right now I will wring your- Oh, sorry, Kageyama,” he said, catching himself.

Oikawa hurriedly got into position and bounced the ball against the ground twice before catching it and pressing it to his forehead.  He took a deep breath and tossed it high into the air.

The ball spun, almost in slow motion, and all three pairs of eyes watched intently.  The air was still and almost motionless, the only thing in the world that mattered was the ball-

A door slammed open, but none of them seemed to hear it.

“ _Tobio?_ Is that _you_ over there?” a man roared.

The moment was shattered as soon as it started. All three of them turned instinctively towards the voice, and gravity did its work, smacking the ball right onto Oikawa’s cheek.

Iwaizumi could have laughed at the disgruntled look of pain on Oikawa’s face, but one glance at Kageyama nearly punched the air out of his system.

Kageyama, in all his youth, looked like an ancient statue: skin paled into a paper white color, limbs frozen in place, chest stilled to a stop. Only his wide eyes gave any indication that he was alive, and they were darting around with panic and absolute terror.

Iwaizumi felt an immediate need to rush over to the poor kid, but the bellowing voice of the dark haired man across the street froze him as well.

“Tobio,” The man’s face was glossed over in a mix of emotions- pain, anger, and most prominently, fear. His voice was gritty, like he had to concentrate on each word to get them out evenly. “Get over here _now."_

Kageyama’s knees buckled. When he spoke, it came out in a near-whisper. “I- I don’t-”

A hardened glare from the man forced Kageyama back into silence. The boy tilted his head forward, far enough for his bangs to cover his dark blue eyes, and shuffled forward into the street.

He glanced towards the rolling ball a foot away and paused- giving the ball back would be good manners- but the increasingly unstable stare coming directly at him pressed him into a run, and he disappeared behind the adult and into the house.

The hard slam of the door shocked Iwaizumi and Oikawa out of their confusion.

“Uh,” Oikawa blinked, trying to comprehend the state of events. “What just happened?”

Iwaizumi scowled, about to make a comment about how Oikawa’s head must have really suffered an impact, before realizing he didn’t quite know as well. His frown turned into one of worry. “I don’t know- we should probably ask someone about it. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

He glanced back over to Oikawa, who was now cupping his cheek and wincing. He strode over, worry level increasing. “Here, let me see that.” He pulled Oikawa’s hand away and studied the red mark the volleyball left. “You’re probably going to need to ice that, your mom knows what to do.”

Oikawa managed a teasing grin under the other expressions he wore. Pain, and what only Iwaizumi could see after years of friendship, a spark of concern, no doubt for Kageyama. He pushed Iwaizumi’s hand away, cheeks slightly pinker than they should be, even with injury. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were my mom, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi flushed, and he shoved Oikawa towards the porch. “Just go.”

As he watched Oikawa stumble inside and heard the following voices that were definitely Oikawa and Oikawa’s mother’s, Iwaizumi jogged to pick up the fallen volleyball. He slung it under his arm and listened the rising pitch of the two voices.

With the nature of the Oikawas, Iwaizumi Hajime doubted that they would fall into the topic of Kageyama anytime soon. He would have to take that matter into his own hands. It was time, he decided, to contact an old friend of theirs for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. How's it going? Sorry for the late update, but from here on out they'll probably be pretty sporadic and spread apart. Don't worry, though! We don't plan on abandoning this anytime soon. Thanks for reading! Please comment if you can, it makes us really happy and gives us motivation! -Nyxzia
> 
> I second everything that Nyxzia stated: Updates are slow due to our own personal schedule. If there's one thing Oikawa is right about, it's that math is absolute hell. Thank you so much for keeping up with this story, we appreciated it a lot! -hinoka


	3. Honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings from the previous chapters still apply, as always.

“Daichi?” Sugawara called, frowning slightly as he spun around in his swivel chair, touching his foot to the carpeted floor.  

“Yeah?” Daichi hollered back from the kitchen, and the metallic clangs of pots and pans halted for a bit.  “What’s up, honey?”

“Could you come here for a second?”

“Just a minute!” Daichi yelled, and Sugawara swiveled back around to face his desktop, the frown still on his face as he reread the email.

_Suga-san, Dai-san, it’s Iwaizumi.  How are you doing? Things have been—_

“What’s up?” Daichi asked, wiping his hands on a towel as he walked into the room.  “Studies keeping you up again?”

“Nah,” Sugawara said, grinning as he turned to face Daichi.  “I’m on top of my stuff, don’t worry.”

“Of course,” Daichi said, handing Sugawara a mug of coffee.  “So, what’s up?”

“This,” Sugawara said, pointing at the desktop and setting the mug down onto the table.  “From Iwaizumi-kun.”

“Iwaizumi?” Daichi asked, frowning.  “What did he say?” he asked, leaning over Sugawara’s shoulder.

* * *

 

“—so I sent them an email, and they still haven’t responded yet,” Iwaizumi concluded, the two boys sprawled out on the porch, fanning themselves and finishing up their lemonade from paper cups.  “What do you think?” he asked Oikawa, propping himself onto his shoulders.

“Eh,” Oikawa said flippantly, waving his fan lazily.  “He’s probably not going to come back, anyway.  So why should we care?”

Iwaizumi frowned and sat up.

“Do you even want him to come back?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.  

“I don’t care,” Oikawa said shortly, turning to face Iwaizumi.  “Honestly, why are you taking this so seriously?” he asked, shaking his head.  

“Because it’s good for all of us,” Iwaizumi said.  “Kageyama gets to learn how to play, and we—”

“We get our time wasted by some kid who doesn’t even know how to play volleyball properly,” Oikawa interrupted, turning away from Iwaizumi and grabbing his lemonade, “time that we could have been using to actually improve, Iwa-chan.  How in the world is that supposed to help us?”

“There’s nothing wrong with going back to review the basics—”

“Reviewing?” Oikawa said with disbelief, his voice rising as he smashed the paper cup onto the porch.  “Reviewing?  You’re obviously not taking that kid in just to ‘review’ your receives, Iwa-chan,” he said as he sat up and gave Iwaizumi a skeptical look.  “Just tell the truth, why don’t you?  We’re best friends.”

Iwaizumi blinked, confused and hurt.

“The truth?” he repeated.  “What do you—”

“You just don’t want to improve, don’t you?” Oikawa insisted, a nasty look crossing his face.  “You’re not taking volleyball seriously, you’re just like—”

“You out of all people should know that isn’t true,” Iwaizumi said, his eyebrows furrowing together.  “We’ve been together ever since we were kids, we got into volleyball together—”

“Just because we got into it together doesn’t mean that you’re taking it seriously!” Oikawa exploded, his voice high and hysterical.  “We’ve got to improve, we can’t just sit here and try to teach a kid how to receive because you think it’s better to ‘review the basics’ when I can’t even serve properly and your spikes aren’t up to par—”

“You can’t serve properly?” Iwaizumi exclaimed.  “You’re joking!  And both our receives need work—”

“Yeah, but teaching a kid how to receive isn’t going to—”

“Iwaizumi-san!  Oikawa-san!”

Oikawa’s head whipped around at the familiar voice, eyes murderous. “Oh, it’s you, Tobio-chan.” he seethed, “Listen, I have some choice words for—”

Iwaizumi sat up and immediately covered Oikawa’s mouth with his hand. He tried for a smile to cover his infuriation as he held his best friend back. “Kageyama! Nice to see you, how’ve you been?” he said as lightly as he could manage.

Kageyama blinked twice, put off by the contrasting emotions. “I— I’ve been normal,” he murmured, eyes flickering up to scan Iwaizumi and Oikawa. He dropped his gaze to a patch of grass on his right. “I just came to ask about volleyball again, and um—”

Sensing the kid’s dropping confidence, Iwaizumi quickly cut in. “Do you want to keep learning? We’ve got time for that, sure.”

Oikawa made a muffled sound of protest under Iwaizumi’s hand. Iwaizumi pushed him down a little further into the wooden chair and continued speaking as normally as he could. “Oikawa’s mom made lemonade, do you want some?”

Kageyama nodded quickly at the offer and stepped onto the porch. Iwaizumi sighed inwardly in relief and reached for the door, dragging Oikawa with him. He twisted the knob open and called, “Hello?”

The sound of footsteps could be heard, and Oikawa Sachiko appeared a few seconds later. “Is everything alright over here, you two?” She glanced over Iwaizumi covering her son’s mouth like it was normal behavior (indeed, it was) and focused on Kageyama instead. She burst into an easy grin. “Oh, I’m sorry, you three. Hi, Tobio-kun, it’s nice to see you again.”

Kageyama immediately went into a bow. “Sorry for the intrusion!”

She waved it off with one hand. “Oh, it’s no problem. Another cute kid on the block is good for us anyway.  Older kids get to be kind of an eyesore after a while, right, Hajime?  Especially ones who procrastinate.”

Oikawa immediately let out a noise of indigence. Iwaizumi choked down a snicker and spoke. “Completely correct. Uh, do we still have lemonade left, or did my dad take it all away when he came over?”

“I made extra just because I know your father was going to take at least a gallon of it away, don’t worry.  But it seems like that didn’t work either since you two have just finished it all, so I’ll need to make more. For Tobio, then?” Sachiko said, grinning as Kageyama practically jumped at the prospect of lemonade, eyes shining.

“And me,” Iwaizumi added.

“Mffm!” Oikawa said, his face still muffled by Iwaizumi’s hand.

“For all of you then,” Sachiko said, her grin growing even wider.  “Why don’t you get back to your volleyball and I’ll bring it to you boys later?”

“Okay!” Kageyama said, almost vibrating with excitement at this point.

Sachiko ruffled Kageyama’s hair and laughed.  Kageyama froze and glanced warily at her hand.

“Since you’re so excited, Tobio, want to come inside and make some more lemonade?  Seeing as how quickly these two finished it, it would be nice to have someone to help out.” Sachiko remarked, nodding at the empty cups and pitcher littering the porch.  “And none of this ‘just add water’ stuff, that’s not allowed on my watch.”

“Ah— but won’t Iwaizumi-san and Oikawa-san feel left out?” Kageyama asked, glancing at the two teenagers with a worried look.  “I wouldn’t—”

“No!” Oikawa gasped, breaking free of Iwaizumi’s hand-gag.  Sachiko raised an eyebrow, and Oikawa hastily composed himself.

“I mean, no, we wouldn’t feel left out,” Oikawa said, laughing awkwardly as he tried to assume a casual position. “Not at all, actually.”

“We won’t,” Iwaizumi agreed, attempting to reassure Kageyama. “We’ve both done it before, and—”

“And we have volleyball to practice, don’t we, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa finished, eyebrows raised as he glanced pointedly at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi pursed his lips and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, we’ll practice and warm up while you’re gone,” he said, trying for a smile.  “Don’t worry, you won’t miss anything.”

“Are you sure?” Kageyama asked hesitantly.  “I don’t—”

“One-hundred percent, absolutely, completely and utterly, Tobio-chan!” Oikawa burst in.  “Now, come on, we can’t waste time, go, go, go.”

Kageyama blinked twice and turned toward Sachiko for confirmation. She gave him a reassuring smile and gestured for him to follow her. “You can leave your shoes on the mat here, Tobio,” she said cheerfully. “Now, it’s time to get to work!”

Oikawa turned to Iwaizumi as soon as the door shut behind Kageyama. “What the hell, Iwa-chan,” he hissed. ”Are you going insane? We can’t keep wasting our time on some kid, there are way more important things that we need to get done!”

Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows. “I’m going crazy, Oikawa? Kageyama’s a good kid, and he hasn’t caused us any real trouble at all,” he shot back. “Plus, he lives across the street. How the hell are we going to ignore him?”

“How about being blunt about it?” Oikawa growled back. “That’s your specialty, Iwa-chan. As if we can afford to get distracted— we can’t, Iwa-chan, we just can’t.”

Iwaizumi’s anger flared. “No, Oikawa, we aren’t going to get anywhere if we keep going like this. The only result of you burning yourself out every damn time we practice is more and more injuries, and I’m not going to let that happen, do you hear me?”

Oikawa tensed. “How is Tobio-chan going to help us with that problem, exactly?” he replied. “He clearly has his own problems, why should he butt into ours while you claim that practically adopting this kid is going to—”

“That’s precisely the point!” Iwaizumi exclaimed, grabbing Oikawa’s shoulders.  “You get to relax!  You get to cool down!  You don’t spend every damn second thinking about how you’re going to improve by jumping as high as you can and end up pulling a muscle!”

“That’s not going to help me improve!” Oikawa snarled, wrenching Iwaizumi’s hand off his shoulder.  “Relaxing isn’t to do anything to beat Ushijima and Shiratorizawa, cooling down isn’t going to fix my serve, nothing that you’re doing makes any sense!”

“You’re not making any sense!” Iwaizumi roared, fists clenched at his sides.  “Breaking something isn’t going to help you come close to beating anyone!  And yet, here you are, still claiming that you still have to practice because your ‘serves aren’t up to par’ or something!  Don’t you understand?”

“No, I don’t!  I don’t understand how wasting our time on a fucking five-year-old is going to improve my game!  I don’t fucking understand how you can be so nonchalant about all this!  And I certainly don’t understand why you insist on having him play with us when he can’t even receive properly!  Hell, if you really wanted me to cool down, then tell me to cool down and—”

“And you will?” Iwaizumi asked incredulously.  “You really think you will?  Every single time we do anything remotely volleyball related, we have to drag you away from it kicking and screaming!  You’re tiring yourself out, you’re staying up late, you’re behind on homework and for all I know, you’re going to collapse from heat stroke at some point!”

“Oh, now you start caring,” Oikawa said mockingly.  “I was wondering where my best friend went.”

The two stood there, seething at each other, Oikawa’s challenging glare directed straight at Iwaizumi, who stood firm and refused to break eye contact.

They stayed like that for a minute, knowing that the first to show signs of reluctance would be the loser in this fight.

But Iwaizumi huffed and walked off the porch, his very posture radiating anger, not defeat.  Oikawa dropped his cold look and looked at Iwaizumi curiously, rather confused.

“Here,” Iwaizumi said, grabbing the volleyball and tossing it to Oikawa, his tone clipped and formal.  “Let’s play.

“Hmph,” Oikawa said, smirking slightly, delighted in what he believed was his victory as he strutted down the steps and into the lawn.  “I guess you’ve finally decided to see sense after all,” he said, every word dripping with pride.

“If that’s sense, I don’t want to see it,” Iwaizumi said with finality, and Oikawa frowned.

“Really.”Iwaizumi firmly ignored him and tossed the ball straight up into the air as Oikawa hastily got into receiving position, wondering what exactly Iwaizumi was trying to prove, but still positively delighted.

Iwaizumi firmly ignored him and tossed the ball straight up into the air as Oikawa hastily got into receiving position, wondering what exactly Iwaizumi was trying to prove, but still positively delighted.

So delighted, in fact, that he completely missed the first ball Iwaizumi sent speeding his way.

Oikawa raised his eyebrows and smirked.

Sore loser.

But the fact was that he had missed a spike, so he went jogged off, grabbed the ball, and returned, determined to serve so well that Iwaizumi would have no chance of receiving it.  He had no intention to lose, even to his (former) best friend.

The smirk on his face was now replaced by grim determination as he bounced the ball onto the grass.

He glanced at Iwaizumi, who gave no indication that he was even aware that Oikawa was even alive, save for his eyes.

Bring it, they said.

Oh, bring it he would.

He tossed the ball straight up into the air, swung his arms back and jumped up, and as his hand made contact with the ball he put into the hit all his his frustration, joy, and rage.  This was a serve fueled by pure emotion.

There was something satisfying in watching the ball hurtle towards Iwaizumi, so perfect that even Oikawa himself had to marvel at it as he landed— the speed, the accuracy, everything.

Oh, if only he could serve like that all the time.

His exhilaration was quickly dampened when the ball rocketed onto Iwaizumi’s arms, causing him to fall onto his bottom, but the ball went up high nonetheless, curving in a delicate arc and falling back to earth, almost anticlimactically.

Oikawa sniffed.  That serve was unsatisfactory, far below his expectations.  It would have to improve.

Iwaizumi picked himself up, dusted himself off solemnly, and grabbed the ball.  

There were no words of encouragement, no reassurances, no compliments.  Iwaizumi had gone completely silent.  Oikawa frowned and got back into receiving position.

Iwaizumi tossed the ball into the air, and as he arched his back and drew his hand back to spike the ball, Oikawa caught a glimpse of his eyes.

They were filled with determination.  Rage, frustration, unwavering belief were reflected in those gorgeous hazel eyes as Iwaizumi almost seemed to freeze in midair, every motion suddenly slowed down.

And suddenly, Iwaizumi snapped forward, time returned to normal, and the ball was hurtling straight towards Oikawa at a speed much faster than the first spike.

Oikawa hastily adjusted his position, and the volleyball rocketed off his forearms, flying high into the air and dropping right in front of Iwaizumi.

What a receive.

Oikawa jogged over to Iwaizumi and picked up the ball, nose up in the air, determined to appear as uncaring as possible.  

And as he walked back and bounced the ball against the grass, they fell into a routine they had gone through for years.

Oikawa served.  Iwaizumi received.  Iwaizumi spiked.  Oikawa received.  Oikawa served.  Over and over again.  And in between, they would laugh and talk about anything.  Sometimes they teased each other about embarrassing pajamas.  It was a casual exercise that they went through, a warm up.

It was strange how things could change so dramatically, Oikawa thought as he received another of Iwaizumi’s spikes, which were growing progressively faster and powerful.

Never had they taken this exercise so seriously, never had his own serves been so angry and full of emotion, never had Iwaizumi been so passionate that you could feel the anger in every spike as it rocketed off Oikawa’s arms.

And they fell into a routine.

* * *

 

Sachiko shut the door behind Kageyama and tilted her head, listening to the boys outside. “Tobio, you can go to the kitchen before me, it’s only about three feet straight ahead. I’ll be there in a second.”

Kageyama murmured an ‘okay’, slipped off his shoes and shuffled toward the kitchen, head lowered. Sachiko reached the counter of the kitchen soon after. She turned to him and immediately furrowed her eyebrows.

“Tobio, you don’t need to do that, I’m not going to hurt you or anything.” She said jokingly. Kageyama flinched and raised his head nervously. Taking that in, Sachiko softened her voice and reached her hand out to him. “C’mon, you can stand on this stool next to me and mix the honey and lemon, alright?”

Kageyama hesitated and then stepped forward to take Sachiko’s hand. Sachiko smiled as gently as she could, helping him up the steps. She turned, grabbing the honey. “Fill the bottle up to this line and use the wooden spoon here to stir.” She directed. “Hold on, your hands are clean, right?” Kageyama hesitated and shook his head.

“Sorry!  I’ll wash it right away!” he said, hopping off the stool.

“Restroom’s down the hall and on the left,” Sachiko said, waving a hand in that general direction.  “And Tobio?” she said as Kageyama started walking towards the hallway entrance, giving her a curious glance.

“No need to be so formal.  We’re friends, okay?” she said, smiling.

Kageyama nodded, running to the restroom.  He returned a few minutes later, still muttering apologies as he climbed back up the stool.

“Hands clean now?” Sachiko asked, and when Kageyama nodded she beamed. “Good! Let’s get started, then.”

Making sure Kageyama was focused on his task, Sachiko tuned her senses to the rising voices up front. The sound wasn’t exactly easy to pick up, but years of experience made up for it. Usually, Sachiko would let the teens be, but Hajime and Tooru seemed tense today.

Her intuition was right on the spot. The boys were definitely yelling by now. Sachiko made a note to talk to her son about it and turned her attention back on Kageyama.

The kid was really focused on his job— he was filling the bottle exactly on the line, eyes scrunched up in concentration. Sachiko felt a laugh bubble up her throat. She forced it down and composed herself. “Tobio, you don’t need to concentrate that hard.”

Kageyama looked up at her, confused. Sachiko tossed a lemon in the air and caught it in front of his face. “Besides, it’s not the measurements that matter. Sometimes we might get a little more lemon than we want in here, and sometimes we might dilute it too much. It’s really no one’s fault,” she said lightly. “Countering the sour with sweet is the only way to make it actually work—  contrast’s what makes it taste so good.”

She gave Kageyama a lopsided grin. “After all, when life gives you lemons…”

Kageyama looked even more puzzled, his stare flickering between the lemon and Sachiko’s face.

Sachiko snorted and put the lemon down. “Sorry, did I lose you there? Apparently I do that a lot, Tooru always complains about how I’m so overdramatic— as if he doesn’t do it himself, it’s obviously genetic— but anyway, you make lemonade, Tobio.”

Kageyama’s face switched from puzzled to curious, eyes shining brightly again. It was adorable— Sachiko couldn’t help but reach out and brush his bangs away from his eyes. Kageyama glanced up at her hand nervously, but she didn’t notice.  “But I’ve done enough talking, how about you, Tobio? Since you live across the street, I’d have thought I would have met you or your parents before, but I don’t think I have…” She trailed off, looking away in thought.  

When Sachiko glanced back, she felt a jolt go down her spine; she had definitely said something wrong. The intrigued expression Kageyama had just seconds ago was gone, and he was turned away from her now, face down, and hands wrangled together tightly.

It immediately sent warning alarms off in her head. Sachiko prided herself for being able to read people, and Kageyama’s body language practically screamed _stop_.

“Oh, Tobio-” she started, kneeling down and placing a hand on Kageyama’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”

Kageyama shook his head.  “No, it’s okay,” he said, taking a step back.  “I don’t think you’ve met my dad— or mom,” he added suddenly.  “Dad works a lot and Mom’s… away.”

Ah.

“Would you like to come over for dinner with your dad sometime?” Sachiko asked, standing up and grabbing another lemon.  “We can invite Hajime over, too.”

“No, that’s okay,” Kageyama said frantically.  “Dad doesn’t come home until really late at night and leaves really early in the morning, so I don’t think he’ll have time.”

“So you stay all by yourself all day?” Sachiko asked.  “Doesn’t it get lonely?”

Kageyama shrugged.  “Sometimes,” he said, climbing back up onto the stool and grabbing the honey.  “I read a lot.”

As Kageyama resumed filling up the plastic beaker with honey, squinting at the cloudy plastic as Sachiko sliced lemons, the kitchen draped in comfortable silence.  The boys had stopped arguing, their loud shouts replaced by the faint thumps of a volleyball.

“I’m done,” Kageyama announced, setting the honey bottle down and scrutinizing the beaker, making sure that the honey was exactly level with the little red line.

“Alright,” Sachiko said, clapping her hands together.  “I finished cutting up the lemons.  Want to help me juice them?”

Kageyama nodded eagerly as Sachiko grabbed a small citrus press from a drawer, waving it around.  

“This,” she said in her loudest and most serious voice.  “Is the most important part of making the lemonade.  After all, what’s lemonade without lemons?” she asked, grinning.

“Water!” Kageyama exclaimed.  “Oh— and honey too,” he added.  

“Exactly!” Sachiko said, patting Kageyama’s head.  “You can’t have lemonade without lemons. You can’t have life without a few road bumps, lemons, and difficulties around the way, you just have to get around it and keep going.  That’s why you add honey to your lemonade, to make it a bit better.  Make the most of your life, Tobio, even with the tough parts.”

She glanced at Kageyama, who was staring at her with a dazed look on his face.

“Oh, sorry, I must have lost you again,” Sachiko said.  “Anyway, lemons.  Lemon juice.  You know how to use this?” she asked, twirling around the citrus press.  Kageyama shook his head.

“Well!” she said, grinning and handing him the citrus press. “I’ll start teaching you, then!”

Kageyama’s lips turned up in a small smile, the first one she had ever seen. “Okay.” He said softly and took the tool in his hands.

Sachiko’s heart warmed. She picked up a chunky piece of lemon and fit it in between the press. “Make sure it’s resting on the glass, yeah, good,” she directed as she grabbed a bowl and shoved it under Kageyama’s hands. “Push down, but not too hard, it’ll spray if you do.”

Kageyama stared at the citrus press, completely and utterly confused.

“Uh...” he said uncertainly, quite unsure of himself.

“Just press down,” Sachiko said, nodding.  After all, how much damage could a five-year-old do?

Kageyama closed his eyes and squeezed the juice press as hard as he could, sending lemon juice all over the kitchen and their faces.

They stood there for a few seconds while Kageyama turned a bright, brilliant red, juice streaming down his shocked face.

“I’m— I’m—” he began, trying to force out a shaky apology, but he was cut off by Sachiko, who patted him on the head and took the juice press from his hands.

“Well, you juiced it alright,” she said, nodding at the puddles all over the floor.  She glanced into the bowl, which was somehow completely empty.  “But not in the right place.”

“I’m sorry!” Kageyama gasped, glancing around the kitchen hurriedly.  “Pap— Paup— Paper towels— Do you have any paper towels?” he asked frantically.

“Whoa, whoa!” Sachiko said, grabbing Kageyama before he could topple off the stool.  “Whoa!  Calm down, Tobio, it’s fine.  This happens a lot, trust me.  Don’t panic, we’ve got this.”

Kageyama took another nervous glance at the lemon juice around the kitchen before nodding reluctantly, his eyes still darting around the kitchen.

“Aren’t— Aren’t you mad?” he asked quietly, his hands shaking.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Mad?” Sachiko exclaimed.  “This has happened so many times before I’ve lost count!  Oh, Tooru’s done it, Hajime’s ruined more than a couple of juice presses, and so have I.  Don’t worry, it’s completely normal.”

Kageyama looked at her, surprised.

“Really?  Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san?” he asked.

Sachiko grinned.  “They may seem perfect, but they do get a little overexcited and blustery at times.  Tooru and Hajime may be your senpais, but they’re only human, you know?  They’re bound to make mistakes,” she said, patting Kageyama’s head before her eyes drifted towards the window.

Outside, completely unaware of the conversation going on inside the house, Oikawa and Iwaizumi continued their unfeeling rally in dead silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Both of us have a ton of things going on this season, but that was to be expected. Anyway, you wonderful people have left such kind messages, and we can’t thank you enough for them! It has really helped us get through everything. Please be patient with us, we’ll try our best to keep up the work! -hinoka
> 
> Hey. Hi. It’s been a good couple of months. Please try to tolerate this sporadic and widespread updating schedule, it’s going to be the norm for a while. Thanks so much for all of your lovely comments (Please leave one, it really makes our day) and encouragement! -Nxyzia

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and anything else is loved- it really helps get the writing done. These are our tumblrs- hinoka's [tumblr](http://boisonice.tumblr.com/) and Nyxzia's [tumblr](http://writer-trash.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk/ask about something!


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